I was standing outside a bus, trying to figure
out if this was the bus I wanted to catch. The door to the bus was open; the
female bus driver sitting high above me looked down and saw me; but just as I
was about to ask her where the bus was going, she shut the door in my face and
began backing up. She had miscalculated, however, failing to see another bus
behind her, and she smashed into the front of the other bus. I felt satisfied
when I saw how the rude woman was being repaid for her nastiness.

Another bus was just about to pull out. I
hurried over to it and jumped on without even knowing whether it was going in my
direction. Once the bus was underway, I stepped up to the black driver and asked
if he were going to north Dallas (we were in downtown Dallas). I tried to be
precise in my description of where I wanted to go. He said we were.

The driver then turned to a couple black
fellows who were sitting in the two front seats. The driver told them they might
want to scoot over into the aisle seats because so many people were about to get
on. When one of the black fellows scooted over, I sat down in the seat near the
window.

Lying next to me was a round cardboard tube. I
picked it up and handed it to the black fellow. He seemed grateful. He mumbled
something about its containing some probation papers of his father.

A stream of people began pilling onto the bus.
They were mostly female and seemed like college students. When the seats ran
out, many of them had to remain standing in the aisle.

We rode on. It was dark outside. We were able
to see the sky, filled with
stars, as if no roof were on the bus. Suddenly I saw
a red flash of light across the sky like a falling star. A dot of red light,
about twice the size of a normal star, streaked across the sky, then broke up
into four or five pieces and disappeared. I hollered out to the surrounding
people what I had seen – but it was too late for them to see. Another person,
however, sang out that he had seen a similar sight. What was going on? Had war
broken out? Were the flashes rockets bursting?

The bus made several stops where people got
off. People were no longer standing and some seats even opened up in the back. I
decided to move back there. Once I had moved to a seat in the back, I could more
clearly see all the girls – there must have been 30-40 of them. They
looked as if they were probably college-aged – clearly too young for me. I
wondered how old they were. They seemed like a friendly lot; so I called out,
asking how old they were.

They rattled off ages: 15,16,17. I was surprised they were so young. I asked if they were still in
high school and they said they were. I then asked them to guess how old I was.
They seemed happy to oblige. The first girl guessed that I was seventeen. Other
girls guessed with all kinds of guesses from the 20s to the 40s.
Finally, an older woman probably about 60 years old (the only one among them)
guessed that I was 50 years old. Finally, I told them that the old woman was
correct, that I was 50.

What an age difference! And yet the girls were
so attractive and looked so much older than their actual ages. I could see how a
man could make a mistake and have contact with one of the girls. What
would be the penalties? One of the girls was aware of the problem. She even had
a chart showing penalties for men having relationships with underage girls. The
chart showed penalties for girls aged 15,16 and 17. The
penalties depended on the age of the man. If the man was close in age, the
penalties were quite small.

I didn't intend to make the mistake of being
with one of the girls, even though I had the distinct feeling that some girls would be willing. Some seemed ready to snuggle up close to me
under a cover; but I couldn't take that chance.